


Blur

by Anonymous



Category: BROCKHAMPTON (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 08:02:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Our time together is running out.”





	Blur

Ciarán woke up alone in his bed, sheets tousled and messy. He twisted and glanced around his dim room. The sun is barely out and it's still rather dark. Confused as to why he woke up by himself, he gripped at the blanket and pulled it off himself and sat up, throwing his legs over the bedside. He cringed at the cold that ran over him, his loose and thin shirt barely providing any warmth from the weather. 

He finally stood up and padded out of his room, his mind still foggy. He looked to his left and made a beeline straight to an all-familiar door. Ciarán carefully placed his hand over the handle to twist it open. He stepped in and courteously closed it behind him. This room was even colder but not as dark, he folded his arms in an attempt to gather his body heat. He looked over the bed straight in front of him and, unsurprisingly, saw a lump in the bed.

He steadily tiptoed over the cold floor towards the bed, and that's when he saw something in his peripheral vision.

Ciarán turned his head to the left and looked at the rather small suitcase sitting on the floor, a stack of neatly folded clothes above it, a packed backpack, and a pair untied shoes lazily thrown on the floor. 

Everything washed over him as he recalled everything that's happened; all he could do was stand stiffly and stare. He regretted ever getting out his bed. He should've stayed asleep, it's what he was supposed to do. He'd thought that, maybe, by the time he had woken up, the worst part would be over with. He knew it was inevitable, so they both had decided it was better to just keep some distance between themselves. 

The sound of shuffling emerging from the bed snapped Ciarán out of his self-deprecating trance. The shuffling stopped just as it had began, but it sounded so loud and disruptive to Ciarán. He took a quick look towards the door and then towards the bed.

Decidedly, he stalked over to the bed. The duvet was pulled up pretty high. He could only see a pack of tangled, bleached hair peeking out. Ciarán tugged at the edges of the blanket and tucked himself in, still unsure if he was going to regret this in the long run or make things worse for himself. He turned over and was met with Kevin's bare back. He could tell that Kevin was still asleep due to his slow breathing. Ciarán hesitantly placed his hands over the other boy's waist; Kevin wouldn't want this for either of them, he'd want to spare the hurt. His skin was warm compared to his own freezing hands. Ciarán fully wrapped his arms around Kevin's chest and abdomen.

Ciarán felt Kevin's chest still and he got scared. Scared that Kevin might not want him here; scared that he had moved on faster than he did, and Ciarán was the one who's still clinging onto something that's long passed. 

He began to remove his arms, anxiety blurring his thoughts. Before he could completely detach himself, he felt a pair of hands gently grab his, and pull him to his previous position.

Kevin couldn't see him, but he knew who the boy in his bed was. “Why are you here?” His voice was raspy as he squeezed Ciarán's hands. 

He couldn't come up for an excusable answer. He knew that he could've walked out the room the second he realized he shouldn't have even entered, but he didn't. Ciarán opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his voice failed him. All he could do was hope Kevin would forgive him as he inched closer– chest pressed flush against his bare back. 

Ciarán's hands held strongly onto Kevin's. He ran his thumbs over the other boy's as a frightening thought took place.

This was the last time he was going to hold onto Kevin's hands and be close to him. The last time that they'll both be under the same blanket and on the same bed. Last time they'll be able to say anything they're thinking of to each other.

Kevin's hands fell loose as he finally sat up and grabbed his phone that was hiding under the sheets. Ciarán's arms lay around his hips, still not exactly wanting to let go just yet. He looked at the time and his face fell unsure. “I really need to get going,” he said quietly into the air. He felt the pair of arms around his hips tighten. Surely, after a couple of seconds of being in denial, he peeled his arms away from Kevin. He couldn't hold him here even if he wanted to. His heart wouldn't let him. 

Kevin didn't even spare a glance as he crawled over Ciarán and out the bed. He looked over his shoulder and saw Kevin trying to adjust his hair before completely shedding his sweatpants and discard it on the floor. He readjusted on the bed with his back on the mattress, idly watching. Kevin pulled on new pants and buttoned it up. He then proceeded to take the sweater and push his arms through the sleeves, and over his head. He froze, unexpectedly hearing the boy in his bed speak. 

“You know I'll miss you, right?” It was the first time he spoke all morning. Kevin had his sweater pulled down only halfway through before he was interrupted, now he just has his stomach exposed. They both made eye contact, and Kevin was the first to break it. He looked down at the floor and let his hands pull his sweater downwards. 

They both knew, deep down, that it was an empty attempt to get Kevin to stay. To say he was lying, though, is untrue. 

Kevin sat on the floor and pulled one of his shoes on. “Yeah,” his nimble fingers tying his shoelaces. He grabbed his other shoe and repeated. “I know.” There wasn't much he could say. The air was tight around them, and their time is dangerously closing in.

He got up off the floor and stood awkwardly. He turned around but couldn't bring himself to look at Ciarán. It'd make it even harder on himself after departure. He turned his head and looked at the door, stalling time just for a little longer. Hoping that the boy in his bed would have something left to say, but he was met with a silence that took over the entire room. Both were too afraid to talk– too afraid to make a move.

He numbly put on his backpack and clutched the suitcase. Ciarán's voice seized as he helplessly watched Kevin turn and make his path out the room. 

The door closes, and Ciarán is left with nothing. He pulls the sheets closer to himself and sulks in a bed that's no longer Kevin's nor his, just in the presence of what once was.


End file.
